Mass Effect: Snow White
by Maya Aodhan
Summary: In the tradition of my crossover-mania, I have combined Snow White with Mass Effect. Yeah. Don't ask me why! Shepard is a Renegade Earthborn Sole Survivor, with complete loyalty for her crew, in particular her turian lover who has believed her dead for the past two years. In this headcanon, Shepard and Garrus got it together while taking down Saren. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"Yeoman Chambers, is there anything I should know?" Serena Shepard asked the red-headed woman serving as her assistant as she stepped off the bridge from the Medbay, Garrus' blue blood still staining her armour. She had not even taken the time to change.

"How is our newest turian crewmember doing?" Chambers asked with a sorrowful expression on her piquant features, "His injuries looked painful."

"He has been through a lot," Shepard rubbed her shoulder, aching from a shot she had taken there, "And not just physically."

"There is something about him…" Kelly commented, her voice growing slightly dreamy.

Shepard scowled in annoyance as she interrupted the discourse, "Ms Chambers, I suggest you get on with the business at hand. We need to go get this…Jack…from the cryoprison."

Kelly cleared her throat, a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheek, "Yes, Commander. You also have unread messages at your private terminal."

Without saying thanks, Shepard stepped to the terminal beside the Galaxy Map Interface and keyed in her passcode. Several messages scrolled through. Thanks. Requests from Hackett. From Cerberus. She might even get around to those. Then she frowned, and ran a gloved hand through the coiling strands of her dark hair in a gesture that spoke of annoyance. What was this?

* * *

TO: SHEPARD

FROM: BALLAS TAU

THE TENTH STREET REDS SEND THEIR REGARDS. IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY MORE OF THEM TO SCREAM, YOU KNOW WHERE TO COME. AND IF YOU DON'T, I WILL SEND YOU THEIR TONGUES.

* * *

"Fuck," Shepard growled.

"Commander?" Chambers sounded startled.

"We are heading to Earth," Shepard strode to the Galaxy Map, and slid her fingers across the glowing interface. She highlighted the Local Cluster, the Sol System and then Earth.

Joker's voice came over the comm, "Uhhh, Shepard?"

"Just fucking do it, Joker," Shepard's voice was hard, "I'm going to clean up." She slammed a hand on the sensor for the elevator. This day just wouldn't fucking end. And her best friend was in surgery because she didn't move fast enough.

EDI's voice was gentle as Shepard entered her quarters, "Commander, this departure from the mission is causing concern. Miss Lawson is on her way."

"She is locked out. Inform her that if she wants me on board with this goddamn mission, we are going to take a few days to stop a heap of folks from being murdered. And tell me when you know anything about Garrus. Immediately."

"Yes, Commander."

Shepard shed her armour and stepped into her shower recess. She turned on the spray and felt it hit her full in the face. As always, the scars on her face tingled in protest. Blue blood and red swirled in varying shades down the drain. She leaned her brow on the cooling white tiles and shoved the tears that strained to release far down. She had no time for that shit.

"Commander? Lieutenant Taylor wishes to see you in the briefing room."

"I'm busy."

"He said it was urgent, Commander."

Shepard sighed, "I just bet it is. Tell him I will be there in fifteen."

"Yes, Commander."

* * *

Shepard's legs moved in her usual ground eating stride as she headed for the briefing room. Miranda was standing next to Jacob, her arms crossed and a scowl on her undeniably lovely features.

"Commander," Jacob began, "I must register a protest…"

"This is madness, Shepard," Miranda snapped, "We are on a mission and you are taking shore leave?"

Shepard just crossed her arms before her in a mirror to their defensive posture. She cocked a dark brow and stood in an arrogant hipshot stance; her scars shimmering red beneath the newness of her skin.

The two Cerberus operatives glanced at each other. Her silence clearly bothered them.

"Look, we know that Garrus is an old friend, and you must be troubled. We are doing everything we can for him, but it doesn't look good…" Jacob's voice struggled to maintain its peace.

Shepard turned her bright green gaze upon Miranda and waited. "This is ridiculous," Miranda protested, pacing angrily, "You can't just take off with the Normandy. She isn't yours to use on whatever whim and fancy you wish."

Shepard moved then, and stalked slowly toward Miranda, equal in height to Jacob, thus taller than the other woman by a few inches. Shepard crowded her space, and blinked slowly, deliberately. When she spoke her voice was a husky growl, "I think you have forgotten your position, Miss Lawson." Her eyes glowed with dangerous green fire, "If you want to stay on board this ship, I suggest you shut the hell up, go back to that little suite, and put in that call to the Illusive Man that I just know you are itching to do right now." A slow smile, "Though you have probably done it already."

Miranda took a wary step back, "I have my orders too…"

"There are very few things in this world I control, Lawson," Shepard kept that humourless smile on her lips, "The Collectors, the Reapers, a krogan in a bad mood. But this ship? This ship I control. Now learn to fall in line."

Miranda took a deep breath and strode toward the door. Shepard mused that dramatic exits were decidedly hindered by the quiet swish of the Normandy's sliding doors.

Jacob was leaning on the table, his dark features troubled, "She can make a lot of trouble for you, Commander."

"I don't really care," Shepard replied quietly, "Was that all you had to say? That Garrus was probably dying and the Illusive Man is pissed at me?"

"I'm…dying?" a puzzled voice came from the doorway.

Shepard's head snapped around, "Garrus?"

"Tough son of a bitch," Jacob drawled, admiration in his tone.

"No one would give me a mirror," Garrus strolled in, his jaw working awkwardly, pain shadowing his eyes, "How bad is it?"

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly," Shepard leaned a hip on the briefing table, this time the smile curving her lips was utterly genuine as she teased him, "Slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice."

Garrus rumbled a laugh that ended in a groan, "Don't make me laugh, damnit. My face is barely holding together as it is. It's probably for the best though. Everyone was always ignoring you and hitting on me. Time for you to get a fair shot at it."

Jacob Taylor saluted Shepard and marched smartly from the room. Garrus thoughtfully watched him go before turning to speak to Shepard.

"Cerberus, Shepard?"

"It's complicated. I'm going to explain, I promise," Shepard moved to stand in front of the tall turian, and she looked up at him with troubled eyes, "I got a message when I was out saving your ass."

"Hey!" Garrus protested, but frowned and reached out to touch Shepard on the cheek when he took note of the lines of stress, "What's wrong, Serena?"

"It's Ballas Tau," Shepard closed her eyes, and leaned slightly in to the touch. She felt the hand curve a little and slide around to cup the back of her neck. She opened her eyes again.

"Hells," Garrus borrowed one of her curses, "What has she done?"

"Brought my past into front and centre."

"We are heading to Earth?"

"Yes."

"I'm with you."

"You can't. Not there," Shepard shook her head.

Garrus lowered his forehead to her own, "Serena. I'm with you."

Shepard reached up and placed a hand upon his chest, "I know. I know you want to. But you can't. The Tenth Street Reds, my gang, they hate your kind."

Garrus breathed slowly, silently for a time, "But I love you, Shepard. I thought you were dead."

"I didn't know where you were, they didn't tell me that you were Archangel," her eyes flashed dangerously, letting him know in no uncertain terms that there would be payment in measure for that.

"If I had known…"

"Oh, I would have found you eventually," Shepard smiled up at him.

Garrus kissed her in her human way upon the lips, "It is two days from Charon to Earth, is it not?"

Shepard nodded mutely.

"Good, we have got some catching up to do," Garrus wrapped his long fingers around her own where it still lay on his chest, "Two years worth."

"Yes," Shepard reached up and touched his face, "I want to know what has put that sadness and anger in your eyes."

"Long story," Garrus glanced down at the ground.

"I have time."

Garrus released her hand then and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into his embrace with familiarity.

"So," he began after a moment, "Not getting along with the new crew, huh?"

"They are Cerberus," Shepard stiffened in his arms. He rubbed a hand down her spine in a soothing motion, "I don't trust them."

"Sensible."

"I'm glad you are here," Shepard pressed her forehead against the smooth plates of his shoulder, "If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my side."

"You realise this plan has me walking into hell too. Hah. Just like old times!" Garrus' voice was rich with amusement, and he grunted as she thumped him on the chest.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - warning for language and ickiness

* * *

"I still think you should let me come with you," Garrus rumbled his disapproval as they lay in post coital flush on her bed. She lay face down, her head turned to look at him. He was curved over her, their legs entangled and his arm resting easily across her lower back. His head was propped on his angled arm as they spoke softly.  
Shepard groaned, "Just leave it, Garrus. The gangs get one look at you and you will be the target for a thousand guns."  
"Surely life on Earth has advanced a little further since the Contact War?" Garrus frowned, his talons gently tracing the ridges of her spine.  
"Some of the gangs barely count as life," Shepard sighed, and ran her toes up his calf, "They are barely more than protoplasm crawling out of the primordial soup."  
"So… I'm stuck on the Normandy?"  
"You got it," she leaned forward and kissed him gently, "If things go wrong, I will need you to have my back. Ballas is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she is a vicious bitch."  
"You have proof that she has a heap of your old gang?"  
"Nope," Shepard sighed, "She's probably lying. But she will go after them sooner or later. She hates them only a little less than I. The Reds might be bastards, but I was once one of them. Cerberus might not have replaced my tattoo, but it's still there. On my heart."  
Garrus' hand stilled on her upper back and he rumbled a sound of capitulation, "Maybe if you hadn't killed her lover…"  
Shepard scowled, "Rastus Card was a snake. A low down, drug-dealing snake. He was cutting his drugs with anything he could get his hands on. Kids were dying. Buying from him was a death sentence. We had to cut him from the Reds. Her too. He just took it harder."  
Garrus resumed the soothing rhythm of his hand across her bare flesh, and he felt the tension go out of the muscles, "I didn't say it was wrong. Tau has obviously built her own gang now, or she wouldn't dare go into Red territory."  
"Yeah," Shepard agreed.  
"Commander?" EDI's smooth voice sounded over the comm, "Mister Moreau wishes me to inform you that we are coming up on outer orbit. You will need to take a shuttle form here. The Normandy is unable to get through the debris field."  
Shepard activated her comm, "Alright. I'm coming down." She propped herself up on her elbows, "Time to go to work." She kissed him firmly, and his hand tightened on her waist, holding her near for just a moment longer. She allowed it, but had to push him back gently after a few moments, "Gotta go."  
She clambered out of bed, all long, lithe limbs and bad scarring. He lay there a moment, watching her dress, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rising to his feet.  
"If you get into trouble, call me. I don't give a damn about the precious xenophobic sensibilities of those humans."  
Shepard glanced up from where she was buckling on the undertunic. She gave him that rare, warm smile, "You are the first one I will call."

* * *

"How long has it been?" Garrus paced the cockpit.  
"Chill, buddy," Joker drawled, spinning in his opulent leather chair, "She's only been gone a couple hours. Miranda has gone with her. She might not trust the Cerberus wench, but she knows that Miranda won't let an expensive investment die."  
"Still don't like it," Garrus sat down in the co-pilots chair, his long legs crossing at the ankles.  
"She's got it covered, big guy," Joker swiveled lazily and ran his fingers over his controls, "She wouldn't be the Commander otherwise."  
"Hrmmm," Garrus rumbled his thoughtful reply.

* * *

Shepard leant against the low cement balustrade with her rifle held in a relaxed posture across her thighs. She felt eyes upon her. Couldn't see the faces, but she knew they were there. They were calculating the cost of her armour, her weapons and wondering if it was worth trying to take her down for them. The gun was a little hint that no. It wasn't.  
A tall male figure stepped from the dark building that had once served as the Reds base of operations. It was condemned now and the . But she knew. Knew that this was where Ballas Tau had wanted her. But it was not Ballas that greeted her, but a man dressed in what no doubt passed as the uniform of whatever band of thugs she had put together to serve as her gang.  
"Shepard," he greeted her, his gun held lazily, "Ballas sends her greetings and wishes for me to escort you to her."  
She straightened, "If she has harmed a single one of the Reds, I will give her more than my fucking best wishes."  
He stilled. Blinked.  
"Come on, moron," Shepard growled, hefting her rifle. She gestured with the barrel, "You first."  
"I…" he protested.  
"Move it," she snapped, "I'm not here on a holiday."

* * *

"Serena Shepard," Ballas Tau's voice echoed from down on high.  
"You are wasting my time, Tau," Shepard's voice was impatient, "Where the hell are my guys?"  
"Dead," Tau's voice was easy, "I grew impatient."  
"For your sake, you had best be lying," Shepard raised her rifle and sighted down it, sweeping the upper reaches of the old building.  
A bag sailed down and crunched on the floor beside Shepard. The mouth opened and a head rolled from it. She knew the face, though it was twisted in the rictus of death. Pearson. They had been kids when they had dropped out of sight of the authorities, and hooked up with the 10th Street Reds. Kids with more anger than sense. They had done things. Things she wasn't proud of. But if she hadn't, she wouldn't be where she was now. And Pearson had stood with her through thick and thin, when there was plenty to eat, and when there was nothing. And this bitch had cut his head off.  
Shepard stared down at the wide, dead eyes and the only indication of the emotion that exploded in her system was the whitening of her hand on the rifle.  
"Vengeance is mine," Ballas Tau drawled, staying back in the shadows, "You killed what was mine, so I killed everything of yours."  
Shepard couldn't trust herself to speak. She closed her eyes for a moment.  
"And now, I will kill you."  
Shepard's eyes snapped open and swung up her rifle, but too late the curled fist struck her from behind, followed by an elbow to the side of her head. She tried to defend, her rifle swinging around, but it was batted away, and she went down hard courtesy of a kick to the back of her knee. She was hit with a stunner and the pain that arced through her spine caused her body to bow. The scream was caught in her throat. And when she was hit again, this time harder, blackness overtook her senses.


End file.
